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Sunday, June 28, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Radio, Sherpas, and Isabella Rossellini. Of course.
The Mother Tongue. Thanks, Heather! Glad to have you!
Thursday, June 25, 2009
RIP James Baker Hall — Photographer, Poet, Writer
JBH on Wikipedia
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
"I Wanna Live in Los Angle Ease"
(Note to Facebook readers: Do yourself a favor and read this in its intended form/presentation at my blog, please. FB butchers the layout and typography)
Well, there's some truth to the title of this post, but really it's the result of having the Frank Black song "Los Angeles" running through my head for a lot of this trip. (when it wasn't Flo-Rida or Unk running through my head, but there's just no excuse for those, so I won't try to explain)
There have been so many amazing things seen and done on this trip that it's hard to comprehend — and the bar has been raised rather impossibly high for the next visit, that's for sure. Did we top the last visit, which included meeting David Hasselhof and hangin' with Seth Green for a couple of hours? I would have to say "yes."
This trip was a combination of business and pleasure, which I think ideally most any trip should be. I was proud of this trip weeks before we even landed, as a matter of fact. That's because it was designed and plotted as a multi-level surprise for Lucy in observation of our 3rd wedding anniversary. I'm going to have to use bullet lists to really explain some of this without getting long winded (like that ever happens):
Background
- After visiting Charles & Ray Eames' Case Study #8 house on my last trip to LA, I decided to join the foundation so that I could bring Lucy for Foundation Day, the only day of the year when guests are allowed inside the Eames' house and studio.
- The motivation was my own ecstatic experience in the presence of the legacy of the American masters, and my knowledge of Lucy's love of the Eames legacy, too.
- Also, the 2009 Foundation Day fell within a week of our anniversary.
- Also, membership was $100 and included two tickets to Foundation Day, which is absurd and insane. But kudos to the Eames for pricing it within the range of little people like us.
- Unrelated to the Eames legacy, I knew that we could stay in the splendid company of my cousins in Silver Lake, in accommodations and community so charming and irresistable that I've come to LA three times in the last year never having been before in my life.
- And after having booked the trip, I managed to arrange two interviews for my oral history project, which was the cherry on the sundae, especially since it was not in the original plan.
The initial surprise — that we were going somewhere, but Lucy didn't know where — went splendidly. Lucy was graceful and game, and asked some questions here and there, but staved off her own curiosity until we arrived at the gate in the Cincinnati airport. She even held the ticket in her hand after a certain point. I applaud that kind of intrepidness. (Full disclosure: it turned out that she had correctly guessed our destination, but kept that private)
On a 4-hour direct flight, we looked over wonderful wedding photos by Catherine Simmons, ones that we'd been meaning to examine for over a year. Catherine has a marvelous eye. I invited her to the wedding casually in conversation at a random meeting, and I think she felt that she needed to account for her presence for some reason, which she did in spades with these wonderful photos. Also, we watched an episode of Entourage to prepare for LA. (Coincidentally, we watch the "Seth Green Day" episode, who I was fortunate enough to get to "hang with" for a couple of hours at the studios of Robot Chicken on my last visit.)
After landing and grabbing a rental, we were going to hit the hay (it was 11pm, thursday), but on the way to Silver Lake opted for midnight breakfast at the Astro, which was a great way to start the trip.
On Friday, I was somewhat anxious and eager to wrap up first interview, with Warner Brothers Records VP Peter Standish. I was nervous to be potentially "bothering" some industry big shot with questions about a Kentucky radio station that I could fairly guarantee he was going to recall just barely. What I had sort of overlooked was that I was going to be a guest a WARNER BROTHERS FRIGGIN RECORDS, with the laminate pass and what-not, adjacent to the Warner movie lot. How cool. Peter was great, his assistant Laurel was great, and since he was running about a half-hour late, I got to sit in his office amidst Neil Young, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Metallica swag and get all my wires and papers ready. Perfect. And did I mention that I'm at Warner Brothers Records for all of this? Warners signed The Everly Brothers to the first-ever million dollar record contract in 1960. (read: Everly Brothers = Kentucky)
Peter spun for me a wonderful telling of the history of college radio and so-called alternative music, barely letting up for a swig of Diet Coke in 40 minutes. After his assistant twice prompted him about his next meeting, he thanked me and we agreed to stay in touch. On the way out, I was loaded up with a spectactular booty bag of Warner's greatest and latest. Thank you so much Laurel and Peter. I love the ski lodge! Keep it wooden, y'all.
Lucy returned to fetch me and we then did a slightly comical attempted visit to Forest Lawn (but the wrong one) by way of a spanning drive across Griffith Park. This was followed by a drive through the Hollywood Hills and some lunch at a nice little place which by coincidence Lucy had eaten at on her only previous LA trip, some seven years ago. After that, we meandered towards Hollywood and stopped for some intinerary consideration at the Bourgeois Pig, a terrifically boho coffee shop that Donna Jo had turned me on to on my previous visit. It may be the only coffee shop that I ever frequent that has a cave/forest room, and I can respect that.
After that, Lucy and I spent some baffling minutes locating the highly camoflaged Hungry Cat, a Hollywood restaurant/bar specializing in ultra-fresh cocktails. Excellent!
Ideally, the next stop was to be Tiki Ti, one of my favorite bars in the known world. But in fact, we needed to hustle back to Silver Lake to get ready for the night's plan: Jon Brion playing his nigh-legendary Largo at the Coronet gig.
More on that in the next post.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Neutra in Silver Lake
Mick Jeffries mick@mickjeffries.com
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Ok, yeah -- it's Fiona Apple
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey
two separate rooms, will soon be told.
Special note to performers, management: I apologize for taking this photo in flagrant disregard to your "we hate cell phones" and no cameras policy. I turned the monitor on my phone to its lowest setting. I held the camera against my chest. I was superhumanly discrete. I know it was wrong, but I'm a chronicler, and I had to chronicle. Please accept my apologies and appreciate my earnestness.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Cktls: the Hungry Cat
Cktls: the Hungry Cat
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey
Excellent atmosphere and ultra fresh with Bob behind the swizzle. Lucy
has the dark & stormy, me with todays special, the Penn State!
Mick Jeffries mick@mickjeffries.com
Oral history at warner brothers records
Oral history at warner brothers records
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey
In Burbank collecting narratives for my WRFL history project
Mick Jeffries mick@mickjeffries.com
Mystery door
Mystery door
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey
Really just a residential door in Silver Lake but so Lion Witch &
Wardrobe-y!
Mick Jeffries mick@mickjeffries.com
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Little Noodles at Gumbo Ya Ya
Little Noodles at Gumbo Ya Ya
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey
Lexington is a great town. There's amazing support for music, and plenty of people willing to get up and play it. My pals Eli Reveire and Nick Warner at their debut Little Noodles performance. Wunnerful!
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Magic Monday
And today was so freakishly deep in this vein that it's downright eery.
First, I interviewed a guy at UK who I expected to have tertiary remarks about the history of these things, who instead was something of an encyclopedia, both of embryonic WRFL, and of my growing project about the Lexington underground. After that delightful hour, I sat down near the statue of James Patterson, feeling charged, making notes, arranging interviews, and looking for connections.
From the courtyard of the Patterson Office Tower, I watched a weirdly ambivalent sky fling giant raindrops down, but not enough to move me off my bench or out of my thoughts; not enough to soak the sidewalks or this reverie. Enough to sit and breathe.
Biking downtown, towards home, I came across an old friend and Lexington legend who I hadn't seen in a long time. Connection. He told me of a couple of people who had recently moved back to town that I should talk to. Connection. We agreed to talk more soon.
As I pedaled onward, I felt entirely right about a bite to eat at the semi-new downtown jernt, the Sidebar Grill, which has a growing reputation as a kind of tattooed, punk version of Cheers (my claim, anyway). Great food, casual crowd with a high average of piercings and tats. Nice people.
Before I can leave, after overhearing a conversation or two, I become aware that the owners are historians in their own right, of that era. The exact era that has been on my mind. The exact section of that era that I'm finding increasingly murky and increasing enchanting. They enthusiastically agree to talk more and show me their collection of ancient local recordings and fliers.
I am blessed.
Tomorrow, I'm scheduled to interview a legendary and beloved UK administrator who I've been trying to get together with for over a year. Over a year.
So: If you want to talk to me about Lexington Punk, please do. I love you. I've conducted approaching a hundred interviews with people involved in Lexington's outstanding music history, and I ain't nearly done. What wonderful thing(s) might you share that I haven't heard?
Friday, June 12, 2009
Jesus Is My Friend by Sonseed
Never mind my previous "Christian Rock Sucks" essay; I've found salvation in Christian Ska.
Praise Him: But some other way, please.
Christian Rock SUCKS.
It sucks, it sucks, it sucks.
And it doesn't have anything to do with my position on Christianity or religion; It has to do with a love of music and a hatred of bad music. And the worst music I've ever heard? Bar none? Christian Rock — or as I sometimes hear it called in the modern parlance — Praise Music.
Riddle me this: If there is a God — and I ain't sayin' there ain't, as you'll see if you stick with me — would any God that I care to worship really allow such terrible, contrived, hackneyed, loathsome music to be created In His Name? Surely not-eth.
Right now, the inspiration for this rant is the venerable (I know, right?) 40th Anniversary Ichthus Festival, which is going on in the rolling hills of Wilmore, Kentucky, about a half-hour from here. It's beautiful out there. Among other things, Wilmore is situated near the Kentucky River which is spanned by the civil engineering marvel High Bridge, one of the most magnificent and historic train bridges in the country. Wilmore is also home to Asbury College, a strongly faith-based institution that also happens to turn out some of the most media-savvy grads anywhere. Asbury consistently grooms remarkable individuals and I have plenty of friends from there to underscore this.
Asbury is also an official sponsor of Ichthus and this probably has something to do with the extraordinary with-it-ness of the Ichthus web site. It's got Flash! It's got the Facebook! It's got the Twitter! It just looks so very very now, so very cool.
The problem? Christian rock SUCKS. It always has, it always will.
And the reason why? It's simple: Rock and Roll just AIN'T about Praising Him or Spreading The Good Word. You know what it's about? It's about rockin'. And — don't get me wrong — there can be all kinds of subtexts to the rockin' — there's politics, there's the sex and the drugs, there's broken hearts, there's all sorts of life-tales, there can even be Jesus. (Just look at U2). But underneath it all? It's about rockin'. It ain't ain't ain't about Jesus. And that's why Christian rock sucks, sucks, sucks and always will.
You want proof? I'll give you proof — Hell, I'll give you proof that God exists AND that Christian rock (wait for it) sucks.
The proof is Ichthus itself: This year, it's busy being rained buckets on. We haven't had this much rain since I-don't-know-when. Last year or the year before, gail-force winds blew down facilities at the festival. But before that? The most telling thing? There was a recent year that found Ichthus plagued by cicadas. Yes, I said plagued. And while Cicadas aren't Locusts, I think God has a history of being plenty more cryptic than that.
Take a hint, Christian Rock.
Avoid eternal damnation and hang it up.
(Now you kids ignore me and go to Ichthus and celebrate a God who deigns that you to listen to mediocre music About Him)
Friday, June 05, 2009
Kate Wheeler on Trivial Thursdays on WRFL-FM
a cool little video on my new Flip Mino from my Trivial Thursdays radio show on WRFL-FM! Thanks to super Amazon seller Justin, who hooked me up!
Thursday, June 04, 2009
my next booze obsession
clipped from www.hitimewine.net LEMON HART 151 DEMER 750
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